


Going Home Pt 2

by TeamFreeWill12



Series: Post I'm No Angel Trauma [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Feeling Sorry For Himself!Dean, Gen, M/M, Morose!Dean, Season 9, drunk!Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-13
Updated: 2013-11-13
Packaged: 2018-01-01 10:35:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1043788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeamFreeWill12/pseuds/TeamFreeWill12
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean has been spending his time away from the bunker completely shitfaced in one bar or another. The secrets he's kept have been weighing on him, driving him back to the bottle. Once again, he doesn't believe he's worth saving. Once again, there's an angel there to try.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Going Home Pt 2

He couldn’t get any lower if he tried. In trying to save his brother, he’d lost both Sam and  Cas . And his home. 

Dean couldn’t stay at the bunker, not with the cold silence from Sam’s corner. Not with the abject guilt that he felt down to his marrow. He couldn’t look Sam in the eye, Kevin either. Since Charlie was off to see the Wizard, the only ones left to talk to were Crowley and Zeke. Pass.

So he was staying in a crappy motel in town, spending his time blind drunk in one bar or another, his thumb hovering over the “send” button on his phone. He’d only given in once, just days earlier, and it had been a mistake. It made everything hurt so much more after hearing  Cas ’ voice, his concern.

God, he was such an idiot.  He would never regret saving Sam, never that. Just the way he did it. Allowing an unknown angel to possess his brother without a thought, and then sending his best friend right into the line of fire because the angel said so, that was stupid. Why did he think he could keep it from Sam? 

He swallowed the last bit of his fifth? sixth? drink and  was about to get up for another when his breath caught in his throat. 

“Hello, Dean.”

A wave of happiness barrel rolled through him before cutting off quickly. 

“What ' re  y a doin ’ here,  Cas ?” His brusque tone was softened by the slurring of his words. He ached to reach out to the man, ached for him to ease the loneliness, but he kept his hands and words to himself. Instead, he built that wall around him, the one that would protect him when  Cas  left, for good this time, when he found out what Dean had done.

“I was worried,”  Cas  replied, sitting in the booth across from him. “Why are  you here?  Why aren’t you at the bunker?”

“You  wanta  drink,  Cas ?” Ignoring  Cas ’ denials, he flagged down his waitress and asked for two more doubles.  He also ignored the look the waitress gave him as she headed back to the bar.

Cas  leaned forward and spoke quietly. “No, Dean. I don’t want a drink. I want to know what’s going on.” 

Dean’s head hung low, his gaze on the empties on the table. He didn’t want to tell  Cas , didn’t want to see the disappointment and anger in his eyes.  Cas  already hated him for kicking him out of the bunker, he didn’t want to make it worse.

“ Cas …”

“Dean, no—”

He was interrupted by the waitress on her return trip with two glasses of whiskey. “Sir, the bartender asked me to let you know that we’re  gonna  have to cut you off after this one—”

Before Dean had a chance to argue,  Cas  spoke up. “That’s fine. If we could just get the check we’ll be out of your hair in a little while.”

The girl nodded and laid the ticket on the table before turning and walking away. When  Cas  reached out for it, Dean batted his hand away and picked it up. He pulled out one of his many credit cards and slapped it on the table before picking up one of the glasses and draining it. Then he reached for  Cas ’ untouched glass and kept it close.

“Dean.”

“What,  Cas ? What?” He drunkenly glared at his friend. “What are you even doing here, man? You shouldn’t be here.  You should be off trying to have a life, not babysitting an old, broken drunk.”

“Dean, stop that.”

“Stop what,  Cas ?” He looked up into blue eyes. “Stop feeling sorry for myself? Why should I? I’ve lost everything that is important to me, and it’s my own fault. Why can’t you just let me drown myself in bad whiskey? You should hate me, but you’re here trying to save me, and that doesn’t make a damn bit of sense.”

His palm making contact with the flat surface made  Cas  jump and startled the waitress, who’d come back to run Dean’s card. 

It was Dean’s turn to jump when he felt  Cas ’ hand cover his own. “Dean, look at me. _ Look _  at me, Dean.”

He lifted his head. It felt heavy. “I’m  lookin ’  Cas .” 

“Dean Winchester, you’ve lost nothing. I promise you that. I know that whatever you did, you did it for Sam, and even though he’s probably furious with you right now—as he should be—he loves you and would never leave you. He just needs some time to get over whatever it is you’ve gotten yourself into.”

“What about you,  Cas ? You’re  gonna  hate me like Sammy does,” he whispered bleakly. “ _ I _  hate me for it. I hate me for sending you away.”

“How is that different from any other day?”

Dean’s head jerked up to meet his friend’ s eyes to see if he was making a joke. He wasn’t.

“I’m serious, Dean. You and I are two of the most self-loathing beings on this planet. I deserve to hate myself, you deserve to hate me, but you…Dean, you have saved so many people on this godforsaken rock, your brother included on many an occasion…You do  _ not _  deserve to be the object of hate, self or otherwise. You are a hero, and you should be lauded as such.”

Dean snorted and pulled his hand away from the warmth of  Cas ’. “Some hero,” he huffed. “A selfish, drunk hero who can’t bear to be without his brother and pulls him from the grips of Death  again and again  because he literally cannot live without his brother. Yeah, big hero.” He swallowed the last glass of whiskey in one gulp, clunking the glass on the table. 

He felt those bluer-than-blues on him so he looked up. All he could remember was that look on  Cas ’ face when he told the new human he couldn’t stay in the bunker, and that made him ache. 

“I’m sorry,  Cas ,” he whispered hoarsely , wiping a palm down his face harshly. “I thought I was doing the right thing.” He felt a pang at the familiar words. 

“I thought that was my line,”  Cas  commented blandly. When Dean gave no response, he went on. “That was a joke.”

“Yeah, well, forgive me if I don’t feel like laughing.” He turned his attention to the waitress, who had returned with his receipt. He quickly signed it and sent her on her way. 

When she was gone  Cas  turned those blues back on him. “Dean, you have to tell me what kind of deal you made, and with which demon. Maybe we can get it reversed, or commuted.”

Dean shook his head, getting out of his seat. He was wobbly on his feet, so  Cas  reached out to steady him as he stood. “No demon,  Cas . Not this time. I was a much bigger idiot this time around.” He started for the door and stumbled, tripping over air. “Damn it!”

Quickly,  Cas  was there offering him an arm to lean on. “What was it, then, Dean? You hav e to tell me so I can help you.”

He remained quiet until they left the bar. When they hit the sidewalk, Dean pulled away from  Cas  to lean against the wall outside. “I don’t want to tell you. You’ll just fuckin’ leave again, and it’ll be my own fault  _ again _  and I can’t take it, I can’t lose you again.”

His eyes stayed on the ground, just staring at  Cas ’ feet. 

“You’re not going to lose me, Dean. If you’ll let me stay, I will. I want nothing more than to b e with you . I want nothing more than to help you deal with whatever it is you’ve done.”

He laughed bitterly. "You've got choices now,  Cas . Why would you--why  _do_   you keep choosing me? I wouldn't choose me."

"I'm only  going to go over this one more time , Dean. You are my friend.  You and Sam are my family. I have chosen you, over and over, and I will continue to do so, until this human life has been extinguished. And possibly beyond. Nothing you say will change that."

His heart caught in his throat, he looked up to see the truth in those blue eyes. "What if I told you I made you leave the bunker because the angel possessing my brother told me to and that the spell  Metatron  used to expel the angels from Heaven is irreversible and I never told you? Would that change your mind?"


End file.
